


Moonlight

by 3cheers12years



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pianist, France (Country), Gen, Servants, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3cheers12years/pseuds/3cheers12years
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Matthew clears his throat, "Monsieur Haner-" the pianist's hands slam on the keys as he jumps, a soft yet violent cry of Merde alors! falling from his lips."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight

The sound of a piano resonates through the halls as Matthew stares out of the third story window over the streets of Paris. The Eiffel Tower can be seen in the distance, lit up beautifully against the dark of the sky.

Matthew is the last servant in the mansion. Tonight, he is on night watch. Not that it matters, as Monsieur has been busy practising his Beethoven non stop. He cannot help but think that Moonlight Sonata reflects Monsieur's personality.

The piece stops and Matthew listens quietly. The emptiness of the halls echos every movement of Monsieur's in his piano room. He hears him sigh and adjust himself in his seat. His knuckles crack before starting the piece once more. Matthew decides to intervene. The pianist hasn't eaten anything apart from a buttered slice of bread from his favourite bakery at 7am sharp this morning. Nor has he requested water.

The servant creeps slowly to the end of the hall, ever so quietly stepping into the room. He holds his hands behind his back, thumbs hooking into the belt loops of his dress trousers. He spends a moment just listening to the beautiful sound of the piano, watching the dark haired musician dance his fingers across the ivories lightly, his body moving with the music and passion.

Matthew clears his throat, "Monsieur Haner-" the pianist's hands slam on the keys as he jumps, a soft yet violent cry of _Merde alors!_  falling from his lips.

"Je suis désolé Monsieur," He quickly recovers, apologising for scaring him.

  
"Come now, Matthew, we are both Americans," he says, turning around on his chair. Matthew's eyes sweep over him briefly. His eyes are tired and his hands are veined.

"Habit, Monsieur. You get used to it living and working in Paris for so long." He replies.

Monsieur Haner smiles, "That you do, Matthew. How may I help you this evening?"

"Well, Monsieur, I was getting concerned," He watches an eyebrow raise, "You haven't eaten since breakfast and as far as I am aware you haven't had a single glass of water. Forgive me for intruding, Monsieur, but I do believe you are spending more time on your work than yourself."

He watches as the man in front of him wrings his hands, "I appreciate your concern, Matthew, but I am fine."

"Please, Monsieur. It is my job to care for you, so please. Come to the kitchen, I will make you something. Anything!"

Monsieur Haner sighs and stands from his seat, "As you wish, Matthew."

He bows his head, "Thank you, Monsieur Haner."

With Monsieur Haner in tow, he walks to the kitchen. He pulls out a chair for Monsieur to sit on before taking an apron from the hanger and slipping it over his head.

"Make me whatever you wish, Matthew. Make a plate for yourself, too. I shall eat in your company." Monsieur says, his eyes gazing over his walls. His hand is playing the piece he has come to know so well on the table.

Matthew fetches a pint glass of filtered water, placing it in front of Monsieur before following his orders and making food.

Matthew isn't a very good cook. He settles on an omelette. A Spanish omelette, specifically.

He serves it. Placing two plates on the table, Monsieur's and his own opposite. He collects cutlery, placing them either side of the plates before taking his apron off and hanging it back up and settling opposite Monsieur.

Monsieur smiles, "Two Americans, in Paris, eating Spanish omelettes," he laughs, his french accent perfected.

Matthew picks up his cutlery, "Bon appétit, Monsieur."

"Please, Matthew, we are eating. Call me Brian."

They eat in silence for a moment. That is, before Brian starts to ask how progress on Moonlight Sonata is coming.

"Excuse me for asking, but do you ever take a break from even thinking about your work?" Matthew asks.

Brian huffs out a laugh, "No, I do not. I have nothing else to talk about. My work is my life. The closest thing to a woman I have in my life is my piano, and that is all."

"Who is to say you need a woman?" Matthew asks.

"I don't."

"Maybe you need a man."

"I have myself for that, Matthew."

Matthew finishes his meal, putting his cutlery neatly in the centre of his dish, "What I'm saying, Brian, is that maybe you need someone to care for you in more than a paid-to-do-so way. As much as I enjoy my job and I am grateful for what you give and pay, I am sure that you could do with some other form of company other than the acquaintances that you make at recitals."

Brian stops with his fork half way to his mouth to look at Matthew. He lowers his hand slowly and raises an eyebrow. Matthew rushes to save himself.

"I understand, Monsieur, that you prefer your own company and that all you feel as though you need in life if your piano and your sheet music-"

"Stop."

Matthew gulps.

"I have lived here in France for a very long time now, Matthew. Although I believe that we are not far off of each others age, I do know that I have been here a lot longer than you have. Despite that, I do not feel as... lets say, _at home_ here as you may. I came to Paris for the culture appreciation, not for the nightlife. However, I do fear that you may be talking sense and you have struck a resonating chord."

"I did not mean to offend, Monsieur-"

"Brian."

"Monsieur Brian, but- I am just concerned."

Brian laughs and takes the last bite of his meal, "You are very much a worrier, aren't you, Matthew?"

Matthew stands and clears the table. Brian thanks him for his meal and states that he must get back to work.

"Monsieur it is late-"

"Are you about to suggest to me that I ought to be going to sleep?" Brian asks, leaning on the door frame.

Matthew blushes, "Yes. A good nights rest may help you when you continue your work tomorrow morning. After a wholesome breakfast, of course."

Brian smiles, "Of course. Maybe I will," he slowly walks through the doorway, "Could you bring me a glass of water, please, Matthew? Regardless of whether I am awake or not, please just leave it on the nightstand."

"Yes, Brian."

"Goodnight, Matt."

"Goodnight, Monsieur."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Moonlight Sonata - Ludwig van Beethovan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQVeaIHWWck 
> 
> I don't speak French so please do excuse if it is not exact. If you do speak French and want to correct me on anything, please feel free!
> 
> I haven't written anything even remotely gay in AGES so here we go!!
> 
> Characters belong to themselves, all a work of fiction.


End file.
